


Hannah

by MollyEverywhere



Series: Meetings with Death [2]
Category: No Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2614919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyEverywhere/pseuds/MollyEverywhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story about a girl, reincarnation and death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hannah

She remembered the first time she met Death. Death had been wreathed in charcoal smoke, which seemed to move through and attach to their robe. Hannah had walked up to the black figure, a yellowish light, that seemed to come from herself, cutting a way through. Death lent down, reached out a bony hand and spoke.

“Hello, Hannah. It is a pleasure to meet you.” The voice was surprisingly high, almost feminine but not quite. Hannah reached her own had out tentatively.

“There is nothing to fear from me. Take my hand.” Hannah’s hand finally touched Death’s. It was warm, for something that’s purpose brought about cold.

“He-hello.” Hannah finally managed to blurt out a greeting. Death shook her hand gently then rose, chuckling lightly.

“Like I said before, there is no reason to be scared. Even if it was your time, death is nothing to fear.”

Hannah gave Death a confused look.

“But I died. I remember. There was a car crash and something went through the windshield. And then I was here.”

Death lent back down and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Just because you have died, it does not mean that it is time for you to leave this world. There is something you still need to do.”

“What do I…” Before she could finish, however, the smoke started being sucked around her and the space around her became so bright.  
“I shall see you again, Hannah.”

She had returned to Death fifteens times. Each time she died, Death would repeat the same words spoken in our first meeting. For many of my lives she was frantic about finding out what it was that she had to do. She had read the stories of how when you were reincarnated it was because you had done something bad or wrong and needed to do the right thing. But she had been twelve when she first died and nothing that she could remember told me that she had been a bad child. She was frustrated and angry that Death had given her so little information, so few clues, to find out what to do. She spent her first nine lives like this.

By the tenth life she was tired of being angry and began to let go. Her obsession with the task Death had set her faded until it was nothing inside of her.

This is her sixteenth death.

“Welcome again, Hannah.”

“Hello, Death.”

“Are you still afraid of me?”

Death looked at her, as if knowing what she was thinking. Death had given her the answer right at the beginning. Death had told her not to be afraid of them but also not to be afraid of dying.

“No, old friend. Death is nothing to be afraid of.”

Death laughed.

“No, there isn’t really.”

This time rather than the smoke rushing around her, it started to coil and twist, to cocoon her. Death reached to Hannah, and she took the bony hand in hers.

And then there was just Death.


End file.
